


a new place to be from

by shardmind



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gen, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester, it's not about the pairings it's about being gay and bullying each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29911413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shardmind/pseuds/shardmind
Summary: Dean owns a bookshop. It attracts a certain crowd.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	a new place to be from

**Author's Note:**

> hi there, this is my act of gay violence. everyone's queer. love ya!
> 
> unbeta'd

He doesn't need to be dealing with this on a Monday. 

The morning had started off great; good coffee, great breakfast, gorgeous boyfriend. Cas had taken to staying over more often through the past couple of months and hey, Dean has no complaints about waking up to his constant bedhead, sleepy smiles and tendency to insist on sharing showers under the guise of saving water. He had two texts from Donna confirming their plans for the inaugural queer lit event next month and a video of a glowing (read: heavily pregnant) Rowena from his brother. She’s definitely carrying Winchester genes; the footprint repeatedly distending her pale stomach was almost as big as Sammy’s. 

Everything seemed to be coming up, Dean. 

And then he got to work. 

It’s one thing to walk into the store and be greeted by the familiar scent of pages and see the team sat with their respective mugs talking about the weekend. It’s another entirely to see Charlie and Jo arguing about _Rhythm of War_ with a short kid Dean doesn’t recognise while Eileen clears up the mess of a collapsed shelf and Crowley mans the counter, smiling in that way he does that seems awful like he instigated this. 

It only takes a few minutes to clear everything up, send the kid—Kevin, a friend of Charlie’s from college who just happened to have self-proclaimed ‘elite’ taste in literature—on his way and get the rest of the staff in order. Cas helps Eileen with the shelf (a product of crappy IKEA handiwork) and Crowley sits there with his smarmy grin and offers them all a ‘brew’, which is Queen’s English for ‘please let me slack off in the kitchenette for fifteen minutes while you deal with this chaos for me’. 

“Kevin comes in, asks to see the fantasy shelves and I was like sure, why not, you know? I know he’s got taste, we use to run D&D campaigns together!” Charlie huffs, arms folded in firm defiance. Jo mirrors her subconsciously. “So, I took him over and we were talking about Rothfuss and Sanderson and the guy has the _audacity_ —” Jo places a palm on Charlie’s arm. Wordless but supportive. “Sorry. Anyway, he said some choice things to say about my girl Shallan Davar and I’m not going to take that kind of slander here, Dean. I’m not.”

God, it’s too early to be talking about Brandon _frigging_ Sanderson. 

He’s halfway through counting to ten when there’s a hand on his lower back. It’s Cas’s, of course, feather-light touch so easily discernable from the heavyhandedness of the rest of his team. He appears beside Dean for a moment. Dean’s not angry, but tension he didn’t know he was holding seeps out of him at the gentle press of fingers. It says so many things but mostly it asks _Are you okay?_ and Dean nods because there’s not much else he can do. Cas gets it, turns and heads back to the rapidly growing pile of paperbacks next to Eileen.

He sighs. Jo smirks. Charlie pouts. She’s stubborn and passionate and one of the most infuriating people he’s ever had the pleasure of sharing a hangover with. And yeah, maybe she has a bit of a ‘problem’ with ‘authority’. It’s not like Dean didn’t know that. She single-handedly demolished the restrictions on their dorm’s wifi the first day they met.

He doesn’t regret hiring her either; she’s been a hit with their Thursday night D&D crowd.

"If someone wants to see what we have on offer, that's fine. That's his or her—"

"—or their—" Jo prods at his chest.

"—or their business,” Charlie’s stopped pouting, taking instead to rolling her eyes. They’ve had this conversation so many times—last time it was Hermione, Éowen the time before that—and it never sinks in. “But you gotta learn to keep your trap shut when it comes to protecting your fictional wives, Bradbury. They’re not gonna fuck you!” 

Dean’s 100% convinced he’s getting a slap for that one—wouldn’t be the first time he’s overstepped the mark with banter at work—but, after a few seconds of stunned silence only punctuated by the tick of the wall clock that’s always two minutes early, both women burst out laughing.

He can’t help but join in.

Yeah. It’s nice to see people actually happy for once. 

Jo wipes away her tears first and makes her way over to Crowley who had, in fact, snuck off to make them all coffee while Dean was dealing with damage control. She picks up three mugs—his, Charlie’s and her own—and hands them out in that order. He doesn’t miss how she throws her free arm around the redhead’s shoulder, tugging her in close. “Maybe not,” She starts, smirking again. “But I will.” 

_Oh for f_ —

“Called it!” Crowley shouts, handing out the remaining mugs. Cas smiles in thanks and raises a single eyebrow at Dean. ‘Gaydar’ doesn’t exist. This he knows. There’s no genetic mutation that allows people to identify who is or isn’t queer. God, Dean would’ve been screwed if there was. High School was not the easiest place to realise he didn’t just like girls. There’s no biological giveaway, no neon light flashing above anyone that identifies as anything other than straight. This is real life, not X-Men. And yet, of course, Cas knew. He’s got that glint in his eye, that smug little lift at the corner of his smile, the one that says _Oh, you didn’t see it coming?_

Evidently not. 

Charlie turns, crowding into Jo’s space and they’re both laughing. They’re not kissing. Then they are. 

Dean, with all his maturity, retches.

“And now I’m scarred for life. How am I meant to look Ellen in the eye now my best friend and my kid sister are—”

“—dating?” Jo supplies, pulling away so they’re at a respectable space-for-Jesus distance apart. 

“Shut _up_ , Jo. Charlie, come on. She’s just a kid—”

“—I’m twenty six, and you’re not my dad. We’re not related.” 

“Yeah, well try telling your mom that.” He bites, taking a long overdue sip of the tepid instant garbage Crowley insists on buying for the break room because it costs less than an actual coffee maker. It wouldn’t take five minutes for someone to stop in at the coffee house down the street that Sammy’s been going on about for weeks but Monday isn’t the time for that argument. The bitter taste settles on his tongue and it takes a second for him to realise what it is he actually just said. “Wait— that’s not—”

Charlie breaks first, then Jo, then Eileen. Hell, even Crowley chuckles from his perch behind the register. Laughter fills the air like it belongs. And it does. That’s all Dean ever wanted when he opened the store in the first place—a safe place to share with his friends-turned-employees and anyone else that needed shelter, company and a good book. It was never his intention to garner a reputation among the queer youth of Kansas City, but hey, as a card carrying member of the LGBT community, who is he to deny their custom? It also doesn’t hurt that, with the exception of their weekend guy, Garth, all employed staff members coincidentally fall somewhere under the queer umbrella. 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.” Dean scoffs, trying to hide his smile behind an eye roll. Unsuccessfully, apparently. 

“I didn’t know you and Ellen were an item, Dean,” Cas perks up from his spot on the floor. He’s not even being coy about it—eyebrows pinched up in a look of exacerbated worry, one hand pressed across his heart. “I would hate to wreck a loving home.”

Ass. 

Maybe meeting and then banging and then dating the guy initially hired to be his assistant store manager wasn’t such a great idea in the long run. It hadn’t been Dean’s intention to accidentally fall into a relationship, especially a workplace one at that, but Cas was different. He is different; he knows his way around the financials where Dean always falls short, he’s studied more languages that could possibly ever be necessary when Google Translate exists, he wins over customers with his gentle manner (but all the team know he’s wit sharp and blunt as they come), he’s got no clue about pop culture but can quote sonnets and soliloquies and stanzas from the classics as if he wrote them himself. Oh, and his pancakes, among other things, are to die for. 

Knowing all this, Dean does the only thing he can. 

“You’re all fired.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @shardminds everywhere. come tell me dean's bi!


End file.
